Brave New World
by songsora
Summary: After dying in battle, Fili and Kili expected to wake and find themselves in the Halls of Waiting...instead, they are hit by a truck, threatened with mace, and nearly left for dead by a very angry young woman who is somehow persuaded into helping them. Fili, Kili, and OC. Rated T for language.
1. Chapter 1

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, _fuck_.

There's two bodies in the road. Covered in blood, long braided hair, dressed liked nerds straight from a Renaissance Fair. I swear to God I have the worst luck in the world. Who the fuck stands out in the middle of the road on a rainy night like this? They were just asking to get hit. The insurance company can't blame me for what is obviously a blatant disregard for sidewalks (sidewalks are for people, roads for cars…you don't see people driving up and down the walkways do you?) and plain old stupidity. This isn't my fault. I had both my hands on the wheels, watching my speed, making sure I didn't go over the limit since I couldn't afford another ticket. Sure, I looked away from the road for _one second _to change the station (it was One Direction can you _really _blame me?) – but it was _one second. _ Fucking idiots. If they weren't already unconscious when I got out of the car, they would've gotten a steaming ration of shit from my end. They should count themselves lucky when they wake up.

I'll probably still get my ass sued over this. _Fuck._

Luckily for me, they seem to be wearing what looks like pretty authentic armor. It's all banged up and scratched to hell now, but from where I'm standing – a safe distance away with a can of Mace in my back pocket – it seemed to have taken the worst of the hit. There's no terrible damage – maybe a couple of bruises and light scratches on their foreheads, but nothing that would suggest they've been mortally wounded from their run-in with my piece of shit Ford. The only thing that's worrying me is the blood. It's all over the fucking place and it doesn't look new either. Must've been roleplaying with the fake stuff – or whatever it is these nerd types do when they run around in their little costumes, making complete and utter asses of themselves. Like I care. I just want to get them cleaned up and send them on their merry little way before someone pulls over and sees me standing over what could be easily misconstrued as two dead bodies. Not to mention the huge person-shaped dent in my bender (thanks to Blondie over here).

I kick Blondie's leg. "Hey, fuckwad, naptime's over…get up."

He doesn't move. I kick a little harder this time, burying the toe of my boot into his side. "Look, dude, it's raining, I'm wet, I'm freezing my ass off, and I'm starting to get _really _pissed off. Ever heard of She-Hulk? Yeah. She's a fairy princess compared to me."

Still he's not moving. He must not be able to feel it through the armor – that or he is dead and that would mean I'm way further down shit creek than I realized.

I get down on my knees, cursing under my breath as mud and water seep into my jeans. Blondie's head is turned toward me, out cold and catching flies. I snap my fingers in front of his face. "Hello?! You still in there, buddy?"

I freeze as the sound of a sword being unsheathed comes from behind me. It's debatable whether I pissed my pants or not, seeing as I've been soaked through – but I'm pretty sure I have. Panicking, I stay completely still and try not to hyperventilate. It's all good. I've got this. I have Mace in my back pocket and a fair working knowledge of Karate. I'm armed and dangerous. I'm a motherfucking ninja with pepper spray; there's no way in hell some nerd with a plastic sword is going to get the best of me.

"Release him!" He says.

"Look, just put down your sword - "

"I command you to release him, witch!"

Well. I've been called worse.

I take my hands off the blonde one and put my hands up in the air. By now I'm _really _getting fed up with this whole situation. Since I'm ninety-nine percent sure I'll be getting sued (there's very little chance that I'm talking my way out of this one), I might as well just give this idiot a piece of my mind. A few quick punches and a roundhouse kick to the back of the knees would have him down and out for a good ten to twenty seconds. That would give me time enough to run back to my truck and get the hell out of here…if I didn't stick around to sucker punch him in the groin for good measure.

"Turn around!"

I've never been considered charming, not even when I try, but aggression might work on this guy. He probably still lives with his mother. There's no way he really knows how to use that thing. "Listen up, dumbass. I'm going to give you five seconds to get that thing out of my face."

He looks thoroughly confused, but does not put down his sword. "Who are you? Where is Thorin and the others?"

Now it's my turn to be confused. "What the hell are you talking about, man? Are you high?"

"Answer me!" He says, more forcefully this time – and it looks like he might just be trying to stare me down like some badass tough guy, but it _really_ isn't working. More like a very sad puppy who's been scolded for messing in the house. "Where is Thorin! Take me to him at once!"

"I honestly have no idea who or what the fuck you're talking about and frankly you're starting to freak me out," I tell him, backing very slowly away so that hopefully he won't notice. "So….this was a real nice slice of hell. Let's not do it again, huh?"

I keep my arms up, moving slowly. Some people, like animals, react to fear. If he can sense how fucking terrified I am, he might try to attack. And since that sword of his doesn't look as plastic like I'd first thought, I'm guessing it's sharp enough to leave a nice big bloody hole for my intestines to fall out of if I find myself on the wrong pointy end of it. With that grotesque picture in mind, I definitely don't want to provoke this guy.

Lowering my arms, I glance to the side to find my truck standing about ten feet away.

I make a break for it.

"Wait! Please…you must help us," he cries.

An enormous hand grabs my wrist, yanking me back from the wide open door of my truck. _Fuck. _I've been captured by the enemy.

Knight in stupid looking armor keeps on talking, oblivious to the fact that he almost just jerked my arm from its socket. "Please! I beg of you. My brother is hurt. He needs a healer!"

He turns the full force of his dark eyes on me. Big, teary doe eyes that would turn any normal woman into a puddle of motherly goo. Luckily, I'm no normal woman.

"That's a real sad sob story you got there," I tell him, loosening my arm from his grip. "And I wish you all the luck in the world on figuring it out."

I'm about to get in the truck and drive off when I hear the distinct sound of crying behind me. He's sunk down, sitting like a miserable soaked-through toddler on the ground, his legs spread out in front of him and his face buried in his hands. I'm convinced it's the most pathetic thing I've ever seen.

And I fucking hate him for it. I don't know even know his name, but I know for a fact that I hate him.

I bang my head against the side of the truck for a few seconds. Curse my bad luck. Curse his doe eyes. Curse the lump of blonde nerd lying on the ground who needs my help.

"Fine." I roll my eyes as I open the door. "Toss Blondie in the backseat and get in."


	2. Chapter 2

I'm dreaming. Yes. That's it. This is all just a fucked up side-effect of trying marijuana in the ninth grade. God _damn _it I knew that was a bad idea. Okay, cool it…it's all good. I can fix this. This is a totally fixable situation. I'll just…pinch myself. That's what they usually do in movies and books and stuff, right? The only thing is that it never worked for those characters. As soon as they pinched themselves and realized they weren't dreaming, their lives went straight to hell after that.

I squeeze and twist the skin of my forearm. Nothing.

_That's _not a good sign.

.

.

.

"Yeah, um...I found these…guys lying on the side of the road."

The nurse is giving me quite the stink eye, and if I had the energy, I might just be adding assault and battery to my list of offenses for the night. "You sure you didn't have anything to do with them lying on the side of the road?"

I give her a pointed look. "Pretty damn positive, actually...but thanks for asking."

She's doing it again. Looking at me like she _knows _I'm lying. And of course I am, which I usually have no problem with, but when it comes to being guilty of what is usually considered a federal offense – well, anyone with half a brain would get fidgety with someone eyeballing them like they know what's _really _up. She comes off as quite the smart ass anyway, which is my job, and I don't like it when people encroach on _my_ turf. So that's _two _strikes against her in my book; it's not looking good from over here.

My patience is _very _thin at the moment and if there is a God up there, he will give me the strength to not body slam her into the ground.

She breaks eye contact with me and reaches for a clipboard and pen instead. Well, what do you know…I might just have to start going to church more often.

"And where are they?" She asks, scribbling away. "These "guys" you just happened to find?"

Yeah, definitely a smart ass. "In the back of my truck," I say, pointing my thumb over my shoulder in their general direction. "You know, just hanging around, bleeding to death. They're in no big hurry whatsoever."

Ha, take that bitch.

"You got quite a mouth on you, sweetie."

I shrug. Honestly I could not give less of a shit. It's been a long day, I'm tired, and I just want to go home. The sooner I can get these morons out of my life, the better. "Yeeeeeah…don't call me sweetie, okay?"

With a very heavy sigh, she turns around and picks up the phone, punching the number keys with long, dark fingers. I can hear her muttering under her breath while waiting for someone on the other end of the line to pick up. _This night just can't get any worse…now I got some big mouth tellin' me what to do in my own hospital…I ain't havin' it, no way Jose, I ain't puttin' up with her shit…not tonight._

Yeah, you and me both honey.

"Where are you parked?" She asks, slamming the phone back into its cradle after summoning a team of EMT's.

"Right out here in the front…the piece of shit Ford with the dent in the bumper. Can't miss it."

She sits back in her swivel chair, whips out a file, and starts sanding away at her nails. Completely ignoring me in the process, which I quite approve of.

In a matter of minutes, two pair of EMT's appear at the end of the hall with gurneys rolling loudly behind them. They're in a mad rush and of course everyone in the waiting room has to look up and see what the noise is all about. You'd think, being in a hospital waiting room, they'd get used to the sound of gurneys and hurried footsteps, seeing as it's kind of a common occurrence in a place like this. I guess if I was as bored as they are, I'd be itching for something interesting to happen too.

As soon as the automatic doors slide shut behind them, the room goes quiet, and they're all disinterested again. They go back to their books and phones and iPods, looking like they're all quietly wishing for death to come for them – to release them from the boredom of sitting on their asses in a waiting room at three in the morning. One of the worst kinds of misfortune you could possibly imagine, let me tell you from experience.

"Soooo..." I start to back away from the front desk. This is it, my part in this very unwanted adventure is over, and I can return home to my box of Lucky Charms and season 6 of Doctor Who. I've never been so relieved in my life. "Thanks for taking them off my hands. I'll just be going then."

As soon as I turn around, shoving my hands deep in the pockets of my jacket, the nurse calls out behind me, "and just where do you think you're goin' baby doll? You can just leave them here. This ain't a day care center, in case you haven't noticed."

Pivoting on one foot, I face her again, none too happy about being waylaid _again _by this fine piece of work (I really have had it up to here with her attitude)_. _"Look. I don't even know who these assholes are. I told you. I _found _them. They're not my responsibility."

"Actually, for your information, since you brought 'em in, they _are _your responsibility," she retorts. "So what you're gonna have to do is sit your ass down in one of those comfy chairs we've provided for you and _wait _just like everyone else, _sweetie. _We'll have some paperwork for you to fill out once your boys have gotten nicely situated. You got a looooooong night ahead of you. Maybe you should take this opportunity to work on your attitude, little miss _thang_."

I officially hate my life.

"Oh, and lookie here! There's a seat right over there with your name on it," she announces with mock sweetness, tilting her head coyly to the side. "How lucky for you."

"Yes, _lucky_ me," I mutter to myself as I drag my weary bones over to a seat at the far end of the waiting room. The _opposite _of where she told me to sit (my one and only chance at rebellion). "It's three in the morning, I'm dead fucking tired, and now I have to sit here with my thumb up my ass waiting on two strangers that I hit with my stupid ass car."

Gracelessly, I fall back into the chair and flop my head hard against the wall with a sickening thump. Another fellow victim in purgatory is staring over the top of his kindle at me, face electric blue with the light of his tablet shining on it. I guess he's never seen an angry woman before. Must not have a girlfriend, or else he'd be witnessing irate female behavior on a monthly basis (at the very least).

"What are _you_ looking at?" I snap at him.

He wilts back into his seat like a whipped puppy. Aw, poor thing. I probably just broke what was left of his pitiful male ego.

The room melts back into its deep, colorless silence. Even the know-it-all nurse has shut her trap, busily clicking her computer mouse over and over and over with her face closely plastered to the screen. It's quite annoying actually. For a split second, I consider picking up one of the many fake plants situated around the room and throwing it at her fat head. It's tempting, really, especially since there's one just itching to be tossed on the table next to me, but it's probably not the best idea I've had all night (and I've had some doozies)…I'm already pretty far down on her shit list. If I make it to the bottom, I might just end up in handcuffs for sure.

Seeing as I'm already in a much bigger heap of trouble than that, I don't want to aggravate the situation any further.

So I resign myself to my fate of wasting away in boredom. It's a rather pathetic end to an already shitty day.

I close my eyes, count to ten three times, and concentrate on breathing instead.

.

.

.

"Miss? Excuse me, miss?"

I absolutely refuse to answer. Maybe whoever it is that's so rudely waking me up will go away if I ignore them.

A few seconds later – "Miss? Hello?"

Gritting my teeth, I open my eyes to find daylight streaming in through the grungy panes of the glass doors. The floor is blindingly white and shiny, sending sharp beams of light through my sockets. I cover my face with my hands to escape the pain of direct sunlight. "What do you want?" I groan through the cracks of my fingers.

"Your John Doe's…there's been a problem."

Oh fuck…I've killed them.

I sit up straight in my seat and blink through the ache that's now throbbing in the back of my head. "_What?"_

"Yeah, they're fine physically…no contusions, lacerations, concussions, etcetera. Their stats are perfectly normal- "

This is taking forever; I quickly interrupt him before he can launch into a discussion of their complete medical history. "Yada yada yada, get to your actual point."

He looks taken aback by my rudeness, but nonetheless understanding. It's probably not common for people to get snappy when they've been stuck here for hours on end. "Well, for reasons we can't explain, they're suffering from delusions…they keep going on about an uncle named Thorin and something about a clan of dwarves and…frankly, we're concerned that they might've sustained some kind of head injury in their past and now it's resurfaced…"

"Yeah? So? They were going on about that when I found them…" I sit up, relieved that it was nothing _really _serious. "You saw how they were dressed. They were on their way to a convention or something and lost their nerdy friends. It's no big deal."

The EMT blushes deeply. "Oh…well then. I suppose that explains it."

"Any chance they're ready to go home? Because I _really _am. And I mean…_really."_

"Are you their guardian?"

"Babysitter's more like it…I have no idea who they are. But apparently I'm taking them home with me…" I trail off, rubbing my eyes furiously. "Two little lost puppies following me home. Fantastic. I hope they're housetrained."

"Great, well, then…" He stops to clear his throat, obviously still embarrassed. "I'll get you set up with the paperwork. Do you know what kind of insurance they might have?"

"_Dude." _I look at him incredulously. This idiot can't be serious…no, there's no possible way. "What part of 'I don't even know them" do you not understand? Should I spell it out for you in another language? One that you can comprehend? Cause obviously English isn't doing it for you."

I can just see it in his face. He thinks I'm a massive bitch, which is actually a spot on interpretation of my usual sunny personality, but I don't have the patience for much of anything right now . The sun is up, the morons are ready, and I so fucking want out of here it's not even funny.

"I'll just…yeah." He walks quickly away. Good riddance.

While I'm waiting, I get up and stretch the soreness out of my cramped muscles. Arms first, then legs, back, neck, and I immediately feel a little better, though there's not much I can do to improve my mood without food or coffee. I yawn and back myself into the wall, leaning against it for support with my arms crossed and one leg propped against the hollow plaster.

At long fucking last, I see the both of them being wheeled out from behind a corner at the far end of the hall. Even from where I'm standing, I can see they're clearly drugged out of their minds, and much happier than they were when I first met them. Great for them…if only I could get a bit of what they're having, then we'd be a merry fucking party all the way home.

"Here they are…" One of the nurses hands me a clipboard and a pen. "Just sign here that they're being released into your care. No insurance?"

"Nope, not that I know of." I tell her, scribbling my name as neatly as I can on three hours of sleep. When I'm finished, I hand over the papers. "Is that going to be a problem?"

She shakes her head. "As long as you have insurance, it won't."

It takes a second for my sleepy brain to realize what she's saying, but once it clicks, I'm _furious. _"You're fucking _kidding_ me."

She nods, pressing her lips firmly together so that they disappear into a thin, pink line. "Serious as a heart attack, ma'am."

"Oh, _man,_" I start laughing from the sheer ridiculousness of it all. "You guys are fucking batshit crazy if you think I'm paying."

"Then you don't have insurance?"

"Well, let's see…I live in a studio apartment in downtown ghettosville and drive a piece of shit truck that I can only just barely make the payments on. What do _you _think?"

"That'd be a no, then." She smiles sweetly. "Will that be cash or check?"

.

.

.

The door to my apartment opens with a rusty creak. I usher the two drug-addled dorks inside, push them toward the couch, and throw my keys on the slab of pitted old wood I have the nerve to call a coffee table. I have never been so happy to come home to this shitty cock-roach infested matchbox in my life.

"You assholes just cost me my rent." I remark as they blink stupidly at the floor, their pupils dilated and drool seeping from their half-open mouths. "So, enjoy your naps, cause as soon as you can walk without falling on your stupid faces again, you're on your own."

I head straight for my liquor cabinet. It might be just barely seven in the morning, but I'm already in need of a hard drink from getting continually reamed up the ass over the past few hours. There's not much left of anything, really – dollar store tequila's nearly gone; vodka, about a quarter of a bottle left. My options are pretty slim. I reach for the tequila and crack it open, the fumes making my stomach turn and my head spin. It's the nastiest liquor in the world, but once it's in your system, you're almost instantly the happiest motherfucker that ever lived.

Bracing myself for the burn, I throw back a good swallow and nearly choke on the searing hot liquid as it oozes down my throat. _Fuck, _that's awful. How people can sit and drink this garbage by the bottle until they're practically swooning, I'll never know. It's one of those secrets of the universe that I honestly have no desire to figure out. Let the universe keep it; I'll just keep sucking down alcohol until the stress of losing a month's worth of rent goes away.

I set the bottle down hard on the counter top and run a shaky hand through my greasy hair. A shower…maybe that would help calm my nerves. As quietly as I can, I peer over the back of the couch to see if the idiots are still asleep. Doe eyes looks out cold. I can't see Blondie's face, but he's not moving, and it's more than likely he's not going anywhere…

Maybe they'll get up while I'm in the shower and wander aimlessly out the door. I don't think I'm that lucky though, so I probably shouldn't hold my breath.

While in the shower, I try not to dwell on my situation too much. I've always been hard-pressed for money, so I'm quite used to it by now, but this time I may not be able to squeak by like I usually do. There's no way I'm going to my parents. If there's one thing in the world I won't do, it's beg for money. I've made it this far on my own with no help from anybody, not even from the very people who raised me. I can take care of myself now and I've proved as much by somehow making it on minimum wage and odd side jobs. This is just something I'm going to have to deal with in the same way I've always done – by myself.

I start thinking of ways to make a little extra cash on the side as I scrub the grime off my skin. I've taken headshots before for aspiring models and actors. It's not much, but I'd be doing something I'm actually good at, not to mention _love _doing, so the chances of getting a little extra for a job well done are fairly high. If I put an ad in the paper before the end of the week, I can have people calling me to request my services before the beginning of the next - which would be just in time for the rent.

It's a good plan A, but I'll have to have a plan B in the works just in case.

I've just finished rinsing the shampoo out of my hair when I hear a loud crash outside the bathroom door. Quickly, I shut the water off, grab a towel, throw the door open, and run down the hall to see what made that god-awful noise.

Short, dark, and handsome is sitting on the ground with head tucked between his knees, rocking back and forth like a crazy person. He's busted my only table lamp, the stupid shit. The pieces of it are scattered all over the floor and he's cut his hands, letting them bleed all over the carpet. That's coming out of my deposit for sure.

They've dressed him in the tunic and tights he'd been wearing when I found him and threw the armor away, seeing as it was so damaged it wouldn't be worth a shit anymore. He's still rocking away, making small, frightened noises as he goes. Great. I've probably just let a couple of psychopaths into my apartment and basically given them a free chance to murder me. I should just shove a knife in his hand right now and tell him to hack away. At least it'd be over with fairly quickly.

I make sure my towel is still wrapped around me (I've actually gone numb with panic and can't feel much of anything at the moment), tuck the ends behind the top hem, and look around for my purse. I find it after a second or two, but it's at the other end of the room and I'd have to pass him to get to it. _Fuck, _my mace is in there…

My eyes dart toward the kitchen, searching for some kind of weapon to defend myself with if things happen to get ugly. My pathetic collection of knives grabs my attention and I start edging slowly toward them.

Around the halfway mark, as I enter the dining room and the dingy gray carpet gives way to linoleum, I step on a weak spot in the floor. A long, resounding creak fills the apartment and the whimpers stop abruptly. I curse under my breath, hold my towel tight against my chest, and turn around. He's staring at me, dark eyes wide as saucers, and upon closer examination I realize his cheeks are wet with tears.

His voice cracking, he asks in a voice no higher than a cracked whisper. "Where are we?"

It's almost pitiful how utterly destroyed and confused he looks and I'm way past wondering if it was a stupid move, taking them home with me. I _know_ for certain now - I've made a _huge _mistake. There's something off about him. Like he doesn't belong. I get a strange, otherworldly vibe from him as he watches me, his eyelashes wet and clumped together as he blinks softly. Even his bottom lip is wavering, as if he didn't look pathetic enough before. Now he just looks like a little deer whose lost his way in the woods.

Obviously, he's suffering some kind of nervous breakdown. I don't want to be responsible for pushing someone over the edge, especially since that someone is much taller and stronger than me. He could easily flip out and go Carrie on my ass if I don't walk on eggshells around him, so I'm careful as I go about breaking the news."You're in _Los Angeles._"

His face crumples into desperate confusion. "You're lying, I know it! I have never heard of such a place!" He seethes through gritted teeth, raising his voice. "Why are you lying to me?!"

I'm stunned into silence. Oh God…he's going to kill me. He's going to kill me and wear my skin like a suit like that freak from Silence of the Lambs. Fuck fuck fuck fuck - I should probably run. Or should I stab him before he tries to stab me?

He stands suddenly, rage making his eyes burn like hot coals. "Answer me, witch! Tell me where we are!" His voice is raw and loud and I cover my ears with my hands, letting out a squeak of terror as I make a break for the knives in the kitchen.

I grab the biggest sucker I've got and point it at him as he approaches me. "You stay the fuck back or I gut you!"

Fresh tears fill his eyes. "I swear on the honor of my long departed father – I will do you no harm - "

"I already told you, you crazy son of a bitch! You're in Los Angeles, California. United States of America. Baseball, freedom of speech, Paris Hilton – ring any bells?!"

He holds his head in his hands again, clenching his fists until his knuckles turn white. "I don't understand…we were dead…we died on the battlefield…I watched the light go out of my brother's eyes…I held his hand as he went and he told me we would be together once more with our creator Aule!...what in the name of Durin has happened to us? I don't understand! - "

It's obvious he's hysterical. For whatever reason - whether it be insanity or delusion – he's found himself in a strange place and is going on and on about some battle that I've never heard of (Five Armies? Goblins? Giant Eagles? What the hell is this guy smoking?). I'm terrified. Here's this strange man, pacing back in forth across the floor of my apartment, and he's freaked the fuck out of his mind. In a few minutes, he's going to lose control and I'll be stuck in a very dangerous place.

With utter and complete silence, I shuffle to the side and reach down to grab the potted plant sitting in the corner. I wait until he stops pacing to make my move. With a crash, the clay pot shatters over his head, and he goes down like a ton of bricks.

I wait a few seconds to make sure he's really out. After at least a minute, I glance over at his face from where I'm standing.

Yep. I knocked his crazy ass clean out.

Now that I know I've successfully diffused the situation, I kneel over his prone body and turn my head to look at him. He's splayed out awkwardly over the carpet. No blood from what I can see, but he's gonna have a nasty knot on the back of his head when he wakes up.

Well…at least he's calm.

* * *

AN: Thanks for reviewing guys! :) Enjoy!

disclaimer - I don't own Fili or Kili. Just my OC.


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